


At The Fair

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Series: Mardi Gras Trilogy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-02-29
Updated: 2000-02-29
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser helps Ray at the Gay & Lesbian Fair Day and learns many things.





	At The Fair

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Mardi Gras Trilogy Part 1

 

 

A light trilogy to celebrate the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras.   
The events described herein are real.  
  
Rated PG  
  
At The Fair  
  
 __Are you going to Scarborough Fair?  
Parsley, sage rosemary and thyme  
Remember me to the one who lives there  


_He once was a true love of mine._ |    | _Scarborough Fair - Simon and Garfunkel_  
---|---|---  
  
  
  
Lieutenant Welsh took a deep breath and stepped out of his office, clutching  
a fax from Head Office. He steeled himself for the response he knew  
he would get and took a final look at the fax. Getting detectives to  
volunteer for anything on their days off was hard enough, but this.   
He didn't like his chances.  
  
Scanning the bullpen he was relieved to see Constable Fraser seated beside  
Detective Vecchio's desk. He would probably volunteer his time, he always  
did. But should he let the hapless Mountie volunteer for this? They'd  
eat him alive.  
  
He shook *that* image from his mind and addressed the detectives en masse.  
"OK, listen up people. I need a few volunteers." He held  
up his hands when he heard the anticipated communal groan. "This  
Sunday is Gay Pride Fair Day and the precinct is running a stall to promote  
the relationship between the Force and the gay community."  
  
A mutter of voices filled the room, some in protest, some in disgust,  
but one spoke out above them all. It came, not surprisingly, from the  
direction of Detective Vecchio's desk.  
  
"I'll do it."  
  
Welsh turned to the owner of the voice, surprised that the voice was  
that of Stanley Raymond Kowalski aka Ray Vecchio and not, as expected,  
Constable Fraser.  
  
He dismissed his surprise, what did he care? It didn't matter who volunteered  
so long as someone did.  
  
"OK, that's great, Detective." He cast his gaze around the  
room. "Anyone else?"  
  
Constable Fraser's hand shot up. "Of course, Leftenant, I am not  
an official member of this precinct, but if you would have me I would  
be honoured to volunteer and I may well learn something about....."  
  
Welsh cut him off before he thought too much about what he might learn;  
Fraser would just have to cope with whatever he was dealt. "You're  
in, Fraser." Scowling at the rest of his staff, he turned back  
to his office. "The rest of you, get back to work."  
  
  
Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny. A perfect day for the Gay Pride  
Fair and Ray whistled to himself as he drove towards the Canadian Consulate.  
It was going to be a good day.  
  
Ray was relieved to find that Fraser had followed his advice and not  
worn his uniform. Dressed simply in worn denim and a white t-shirt,  
the Mountie waited on the steps of the Consulate with Diefenbaker beside  
him. They walked towards Ray's GTO as he pulled up.  
  
"Good morning, Ray." He smiled at his friend as he got into  
the car. "I hope it's not inappropriate to bring Diefenbaker?"  
  
"No, Fraser." Ray grinned back at him. "No problem at  
all."  
  
For a moment he was tempted to tell his friend that one of the competitions  
held every year at the Gay Pride Fair was to find the dog most suited  
to helping their owner score, but maybe he'd let Fraser find that out  
himself.  
  
On arrival at the Fair, it only took a short while to get their stall  
organised. The organisers of the fair had erected a small tent like  
affair and Fraser and Ray arranged a trestle table with pamphlets and  
fliers and hunted up a few chairs. As they were working on their arrangement  
one of the organisers, a muscled blonde man, arrived clutching a pair  
of t-shirts. He introduced himself as Tom Gleeson.  
  
"Here guys, I thought you might like a couple of these shirts to  
make you feel like a part of the crowd."  
  
Fraser accepted the shirts from Tom, who looked him up and down as he  
did. "Thank you kindly," he replied, flushing slightly under  
the scrutiny.  
  
Tom turned to Ray. "I hope you have a successful day, Detective.  
I think it's important that we feel like we can come to the police when  
we need to."  
  
"Yeah, well I'd like that to happen to."  
  
After exchanging a few more words, Tom left, leaving Fraser and Ray to  
their day.  
  
Fraser held up the t-shirts. "These are a little *small*, Ray,  
but I think it would be rude not to wear them."  
  
Ray grinned as he inspected the shirts. The larger of the two bore the  
now familiar rainbow striped flag of gay pride with the date across it  
and the smaller bore a pink triangle overlapping a blue triangle, also  
with the date.  
  
"They're *supposed* to be this size, Fraser. Look around, everyone  
else is wearing tight shirts."  
  
Ray reached for the smaller one, pulled his own t-shirt over his head  
and put the new one on, smoothing the blue and pink triangles over his  
chest as he did. After a momentary hesitation Fraser did the same, turning  
his back to the open front of their tent.  
  
The short, tight shirt moulded to his muscles, making the rainbow flag  
appear curved and bumpy. He pulled at the hem and looked nervously at  
his companion. Ray's shirt barely covered his midriff and as he moved,  
it showed glimpses of the taut stomach underneath. Well, Fraser sighed  
to himself, if Ray is prepared to do this in the interest of a good cause,  
then so am I.  
  
"You OK there, Fraser?" Ray asked, looking up from the fliers  
he was busy rearranging.  
  
"Yes, Ray, I'm fine." He indicated the triangle design on  
his friend's shirt. "I am familiar with the rainbow flag on my  
shirt, Ray. But I do not know what those triangles are."  
  
Ray lifted an elegant finger to touch his lips, hiding his smile. "Bi  
Pride," he answered softly.  
  
"Buy pride? Surely pride is something that cannot be bought...."  
  
Ray cut him off. "No, not buy. Bi as in bisexual."  
  
Fraser blushed and dropped his gaze to his boots. "Oh."  
  
  
By midmorning most stalls were set up. There were stalls selling food,  
clothing, books and some, like theirs, dispensing pamphlets, condoms  
and advice. The crowd started to arrive at about 11am and Fraser took  
his time looking over the variety of people ranging from handsome bare-chested  
muscle bound men to young women dressed in baggy shorts and heavy boots  
to men wearing high heels that sank in the grass. All in all, a colourful  
and happy day and he found himself surprisingly happy to be part of it.  
  
Throughout the morning many people, including some of their colleagues  
from 'The Gay and Lesbian Police Officers' stall, stopped by to visit  
them. Fraser, despite his early discomfort at wearing such a revealing  
shirt, was enjoying himself immensely and was well pleased with the relationship  
the Chicago PD seemed to be establishing with the community. Diefenbaker  
had wandered off shortly after their arrival, but Fraser wasn't concerned.  
There were many dogs at the Fair to keep him company.  
  
Ray seemed to be enjoying himself too, Fraser noticed. He seemed to  
know many of the people there already and had spent much of the morning  
hugging and kissing what seemed to be a large number of old friends.  
Fraser was about to mention this fact to his friend when a transvestite  
in a pink vinyl dress and a bright yellow wig teetered up to their tent.  
  
"Well if it isn't Stanley Kowalski!" she screamed delightedly.  
  
Ray turned in time to be pressed against a pair of pointy vinyl covered  
breasts. "Hey, Pan," he grinned at the woman who towered over  
him in her six inch purple platforms. "I haven't seen you in ages."  
  
"Well, honey," she pouted at him, "that could be because  
you don't come round anymore."  
  
"Well, now I got this new job, I can't come round too much."  
  
"We miss you, Stanley." Pan looked up and indicated Fraser.  
"But, I'll forgive you if you introduce me to your lovely friend  
here."  
  
"Oh, ah, yeah sure." Ray rubbed a hand across his forehead.  
"Ah...this is...."  
  
Fraser stepped across the small space and extended his hand to the woman.  
"Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police."  
  
Pan feigned a swoon and fanned herself with a pink-gloved hand. "I'm  
Pan Am."  
  
Fraser frowned and glanced at Ray before looking back at Pan. "Pan  
Am?"  
  
Pan gave a demure look from under long eyelashes. "It's my stage  
name."  
  
On cue and before either of the men could react, a sturdy young woman  
with a severe haircut dashed up to Pan. "Pan, for Christ's sakes,  
I've been looking everywhere for you. You're on in five."  
  
"Oh, fuck," she cried in a voice deeper than before. Quickly  
she kissed Ray and patted Fraser's cheek. "You two will have to  
wait till later." She ran off after the young woman as fast as  
her platforms would carry her. "Come see my show," she called  
as she went.  
  
"Pan Am?" Fraser repeated, turning to Ray with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Ray laughed and turned to hand some pamphlets to a pair of leather clad  
women wearing t-shirts proclaiming them to be 'dykes on bikes'.  
  
  
Sometime later a man wearing leather chaps and spurs approached the tent,  
making a beeline for Fraser. Fraser smiled at the man and pointed to  
his chaps.  
  
"I take it you like to ride?" Fraser asked.  
  
The man fingered his moustache and tugged at the red bandanna tied around  
his neck. He smiled at Fraser, his eyes raking over the muscles not  
at all concealed by the tight t-shirt.  
  
"Oh, yeah, I *love* to ride," he drawled.  
  
"Well so do I, that is, as a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted  
Police, I am required to ride." He hesitated for a moment. "But  
in my leisure time, at least my leisure time in Canada that is, I ride  
whenever I get the chance."  
  
The man reached out and ran his hand brazenly down Fraser's chest. "Well  
for you, handsome, I'd even consider being ridden." He turned and  
walked away. Fraser watched open-mouthed as the man went, taking a moment  
to realise that under the leather chaps all the man wore was a black  
leather thong. Behind him, Ray was unable to contain his laughter any  
longer.  
  
"Oh man, the look on your face is priceless," he guffawed.  
"You gotta know that was coming."  
  
Fraser coloured. "Not at all. I thought we were discussing......*equestrian*  
events."  
  
Ray laughed again. "You kill me, Fraser."  
  
"I think I'll go find Diefenbaker," Fraser said, feeling miffed  
at his friend's laughter.  
  
  
Ray watched as Fraser disappeared into the crowd in search of his wolf.  
It's strange, Ray thought, that although Fraser looked like he belonged  
here amongst this crowd in his old threadbare jeans and too tight t-shirt,  
that he was so out of his depth.  
  
Not like him. Ray handed a leaflet and a pack of condoms to a young  
man who looked to be about the same age as he had been the first time  
he attended an event like this. Things sure had changed in the last  
twenty years, he mused. Back then, if you were out, you were *out* and  
a confused young teenager, as he had been, stood no chance.  
  
But not now. Now things were different. There were still the stereotypes  
of course, but these days your sexuality didn't need to be on display  
to be valid. All around him were examples; a beautiful woman, who could  
have been a model, held hands with another woman carrying a child on  
her back; two men who could have been accountants chose handmade coffee  
cups from a pottery stall; an older transvestite dressed tastefully in  
a Chanel-style suit held hands with a man her age who had obviously been  
very handsome in his youth; a woman his mother's age slipped her arms  
around the waist of another woman and they laughed together at some private  
joke. All of these people had come to celebrate their community and  
Ray was proud to be here with them. He was proud to be a part of this  
community.  
  
He wondered if Fraser guessed. Had the Mountie realised there was more  
to his desire to volunteer today than being a good cop? Did Fraser wonder  
how he came to know so many of the people that had stopped by? And what  
did it matter if he had? Suddenly weary, Ray reached over, snagged one  
of the chairs and lowered himself into it, letting the sights and sounds  
of Gay Pride Fair Day wash over him.  
  
So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't hear a man approach him.  
He jumped when he heard a soft, familiar voice to his left.  
  
"Hello, Ray."  
  
He flowed out of the chair and stepped towards the owner of the voice,  
stopping just short of arms reach. He let his eyes wander up and down  
the man in front of him, taking in the sturdy legs encased in denim and  
the barrel-chest barely covered by a soft tan suede vest. He hadn't  
changed at all.  
  
"Danny," he breathed and flowed against the man, sliding his  
arms under black waist length hair as he hugged him.  
  
  
In the centre of the Fair, Fraser finally found Diefenbaker beside a  
stall selling pretzels. He sat next to a small white fluffy dog of indeterminable  
parentage. He bent to scold him, but a stern voice pulled him up short.  
  
"So he's yours?"  
  
Fraser stood and found himself eye to eye with a beautiful black woman.  
"Ah, yes," he said, intimidated by glare of the woman in front  
of him. "I'm sorry if he has caused any trouble. I'd be glad to  
pay for any food he's stolen."  
  
The woman's stern face was split by a large grin and she threw back her  
head and laughed. "No, he's no trouble, I was just hoping he belonged  
to that sweet young thing over there." She pointed to a slender  
woman dressed in a sheer yellow shirt tucked into skin-tight black pants.  
"Never mind, you're already entered in the contest."  
  
"Contest?"  
  
"Yeah, the dog contest." She frowned at Fraser's blank stare.  
"The contest where they judge the best dog for helping their owner  
score."  
  
"Score?"  
  
"Hell, man," she sneered. "You know, meet some guy to  
do the horizontal polka with."  
  
"Oh." Fraser blushed. "I .... I...."  
  
Before he could continue any further, Pan Am appeared at his side. "Oh,  
so he's *your* dog? Well come on, judging is about to start."  
  
Before he could figure out how it happened, Fraser found himself on a  
makeshift stage with Dief at his feet, in a line with 5 other contestants  
and their dogs. Pan Am strolled along the line assessing each owner  
and calling for ratings from the audience. By the time they reached  
Fraser and Dief, the audience was going wild; shouting, clapping and  
calling out obscenities that made Fraser blush. Pan Am declared them  
the winner and proceeded to embarrass Fraser further  
  
Ten minutes later, still wondering what had happened, Fraser found himself  
on his way back to the Chicago PD stall with a pink sash around his chest,  
a bottle of pink champagne in his hand and an ostentatious pink bow around  
Diefenbaker's neck. As he approached the stall he was startled to find  
Ray in the embrace of a man of Native American origin.  
  
So intimate was their posture that he stopped suddenly, causing a drag  
queen in gold stilettos to bump into him.  
  
"Sorry ma'am," he muttered absently, steadying the woman without  
taking his eyes off the scene in the Chicago PD tent.  
  
By the time the woman was on her way again, the man in Ray's arms was  
moving away, one hand holding on to Ray's for as long as possible. Fraser  
took a breath, straightened his sash and continued.  
  
When Fraser reached his companion, Ray was absently shuffling leaflets  
on the trestle table on the side of the tent, smiling contentedly to  
himself. As he looked up the smile grew wider and Fraser noticed a glow  
in his friend's eyes that wasn't there before.  
  
"I'm back, Ray," he said as he entered the tent. "I'm  
sorry I was gone so long." He held up the bottle and indicated his  
sash. "You see, Pan Am found me and took Dief and I....."  
  
Ray smiled and cut his friend off. "S'okay, Fraser." He laughed  
out loud as he helped Fraser take the sash off. "So long as you  
were having a good time."  
  
Fraser looked startled for a moment, realising that he had, in fact,  
had a good time. "Why yes, Ray. I think I did."  
  
Ray smiled again and his eyes shone. "Fraser, I learn something  
new about you everyday."  
  
Fraser smiled warmly at Ray, remembering the scene he had witnessed minutes  
earlier. "And I you, Ray," he said as he took up a fresh batch  
of pamphlets and began to hand them out.  
  
  
Comments welcome at mullum@ tig.com.au  



End file.
